Lost Between Worlds
by GreyLady1575
Summary: Responding to a call for help, the countries find the unthinkable. Diving into the ocean, America saves a girl from the bottom of the sea. The catch? Her name is Amelia and she claims to be the personification of the USA from a world where the countries are mostly female. What's worse? She claims that the evil that destroyed her world is now loose in theirs...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Hetalia is owned by Hidekaz Himaruya.**

 **Welcome to my story. It has been rated T for language and action. Those are the only warnings I have for now, I'll let you know if things change.**

 **This fic is set in canon-verse and will eventually include the Nyo!talias as well as the 2Ps. If that's your kinda thing, then please, read on :)**

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"Aw yeah!" America cheered, the salty breeze ruffling through his hair as he overlooked the open water before him. The metal dog tags on the chain around his neck clanked together as though happy to be flying free.

"America!" an all too familiar-not to mention cranky-voice scolded.

Glancing down, the energetic blond saw his ex-brother glaring intently up at him from the deck below. "Can't you be serious for once?!" Man, when he got angry it was almost as if his caterpillar eyebrows fused together to create one super caterpillar. Haha! Hilarious!

Smirking, the young nation jumped from the top of the mast, enjoying the weightless feeling and the horrified look on the older nation's face as he fell. Just before he reached the deck, he flipped to his feet before landing with a THUD!

"And he sticks the landing!" America cheered, bowing to an imaginary audience.

"Be careful, you twit!" Britain growled, grabbing the American by an ear and pulling him along.

"Ouch!" America protested, "Dude, that's attached! Oww...owww… owww..." The younger nation could've sworn he saw a smirk play on the island nation's face as he pulled him down through the ship. Man...Arthur-er-England, was such an old geezer! As though reading his mind, England pinched America's ear harder as he continued to drag the younger nation through the ship's winding hallways.

"America we are trying to have a meeting about the mysterious radio calls that we've all been receiving and we can't start until everyone is present-that includes our self-proclaimed hero." Man, he sounded tired. America felt a rare pang of guilt and stopped struggling against the personification of Great Britain.

The radio calls...those were the whole reason that they were even out on the sea. About a month ago, many countries had begun to hear odd interference through the radio. It sounded like voices, crying and pleading for help… They were haunting voices. Though whatever they were trying to say was lost in the static, it were as though their voices carried a general sense of fear and dread.

Once America started hearing these garbled cries over the radio, he had raced to the pentagon to report to his boss. Someone, perhaps his own citizens, were in some kind of danger and in need of help. But, as he had played a recording of the strange message, his officials had looked at him as though he were playing some sort of sick prank. They told him not to waste their time by playing static. That was when he'd realized, no one else could hear the muffled voices crying over the radio waves, well no humans at least. Apparently, Canada, England, France, and some others had similar experiences with the strange voices.

As the weeks carried on, the interference became more and more prevalent: calling out over walkie-talkies, police scanners, baby monitors, even disrupting popular songs played on the radio. But still, their human citizens seemed not to be aware of the chilling cries being emitted over their technology. Soon, America found that he couldn't go for a drive in his car without hearing the cries playing over his favorite pop/rock station. Yet, he couldn't just listen to his other music devices, the cries tugged at his heart making them impossible to ignore.

That's when the countries had decided to go out in search for the source of the radio interference themselves. They'd held secret meetings, tracing the signals to their origin, the Atlantic Ocean-a couple hundred miles from the shore of New York.

Without the understanding of their bosses (who probably all thought that their personifications had gone insane), England had somehow gotten permission to take a small naval ship out into the Atlantic under the guise of having a collective day off with the other countries. Being thought of as crazy must have it's perks, because none of the countries had very much trouble convincing their bosses to give them the day off.

"In addition," England carried on, releasing the American's ear to allow him to stand up straight, "you must be more careful." The British nation took the edges of the American's bomber jacket in his hands and straightened it before continuing to brush imaginary lint from his black t-shirt. "Just because we are very hard to destroy, doesn't mean that we can't be hurt or worse." He looked up to meet the American's eyes. "Do you understand?" America felt a twinge of deja vu, England had acted similarly when America had joined in WWII. He was always one to imagine the worst.

America looked at England for a minute before he shoved his hands into his jean pockets, and laughed. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be careful." Sheesh, this guy!

England rolled his eyes. "Okay, let's go." He opened the door to the cockpit where all the other countries were waiting-the G8, plus China.

"Good, you've made it." Germany nodded as England and America joined the group. Japan and China were manning the controls where various buttons and dials flashed and beeped. Seated at a table, Canada and Italy had large headphones gripped to their ears, likely scanning for the mysterious signals on the laptop between them. On the other side of the room, Germany, France, and Russia were gathered off to the side, huddled over a counter studying a map of the Atlantic.

"There is a storm, roughly six-hundred kilometers away," Japan reported. "It isn't currently headed in our direction, but we should keep an eye on it regardless."

England nodded, "That is good to keep in mind, thank you Japan. This ship should be big enough to weather the storm, but I'd prefer to stay out of it if at all possible." Japan nodded before turning back to the dials.

Walking toward Germany, France, and Russia, England led the way pressing into the small group. "I found America, are you all ready to begin the meeting?"

"Yes," Germany affirmed, "I'll collect the others and we can begin." He walked off toward the control panel.

"While he's doing that," America announced, hand pulling a small flat box from his jacket, "I have cool mission gear for everyone."

England crossed his arms, "Tell me, what kind of 'gear' could possibly fit into a box of that size?" Grinning, America answered the Brit by pulling out one of the many dog tags, much like his own, that had been tucked carefully away in the small box. "You can't be serious." The British nation deadpanned.

"C'mon, Igs!" The young nation laughed, holding that tag up. "I had these specially made! We never get to go on cool mission like this all together!" The tag was a silvery metal and embossed on one side with a detailed pattern of the Union Jack. Turning the trinket over, into the Brit's hand America showed that the other side had been inscribed:

A. Kirkland

United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland

"That was very thoughtful, America. Thank you. And don't call me 'Igs'!" Moving his fingertips over the inscription' England raised a brow. "Why our human names?"

America shrugged, handing a dog tag with the Maple Leaf over to his twin before passing the box over to France. "They wouldn't allow me to put 'Personification of:' as a title. So I figured human names were better than just flags and the names our lands."

"So, America," Russia drawled, eyes glinting playfully as he toyed with the heavy piece of metal around his neck, "where were you? Out playing on the deck of the ship?"

America smirked, " _Playing?_ Dude, I was out being the total hero that I am and running surveillance for the entire ship all at once." He sat down in the seat next to England, earning an impressive eyeroll from the Kingdom.

France took a seat on the other side of England and raised a curious brow. "So, you were playing up in the crow's nest? Oui?" Man, did everyone think he was such a child, _playing_ while on a mission? Was it so wrong to try to get out of the stuffy conference room and enjoy the salty air and sunshine?

"Actually, he'd somehow climbed to the top of the mast," England answered.

The American was about to defend himself by telling how awesome it had been way up in the sky and how the other nations just could never understand, when a small voice came to his aid.

"Did you have a good view from up there?" America turned just in time to see his twin slipping into the open seat next to him. Good ol' Mattie, he could always count on his bro to back him up.

Grinning widely, America crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back as far as he could without tipping the chair over. "Pretty boring actually, nothing but flat water and clear skies for miles. Nothing for the hero to do, ya know?"

Canada chuckled lightly before smirking at his brother, "Sounds like fun. You'll have to take me with you next time."

"Definitely." American gave his bro a thumbs up as Germany and Japan joined the long table.

"China will be taking over navigation and Italy will continue to monitor the radio waves," Germany announced. "So, let us begin the informal meeting for this unofficial mission. Mr. Britain, if you'd like to open."

England stood, "Well, currently we have a general idea of where the emissions of the signals are coming from." He pointed to a red circle that had been drawn on the map. "We should arrive in the perimeter within minutes. I encourage everyone to look sharp, we don't want to miss anything that may be contributing to these phantom distress calls." He looked around the table. "At this time, does anyone have any information that may be beneficial to our efforts?"

Clearing this threat, America stood, "My scientists have been monitoring weird electromagnetic bursts of energy that seem to be originating in the same area." At this, the other countries turned to him with rapt attention. "They started off really weak but they have steadily been gaining strength." He shrugged. "Just something that we all might need to know. We have no reason to believe these spikes are dangerous, and as of now they've been labeled as 'anomalies'."

"Well, that is wonderful," France murmured dryly. "Is-"

Suddenly there was a scream and everyone turned in time to see Italy fall out of his chair and struggle to get away from the radar-throwing his headphones off in the process.

"Italy..?" Japan called softly, walking over to try to calm with distraught ally. Even China ceased monitoring the navigation equipment to regard the scene that was unfolding.

Canada acted first, rising from his seat and gathering the headphones that had been roughly thrown to the ground. Pressing one of the ear pieces to his head, his eyes widened and his face blanched. "Hello? Hello! Can you hear me?!" The Canadian desperately clung to the headset. "Please…" his hand was shaking. Apparently whoever was on the opposite side could not hear him.

"Bro?" America called, also rising to his feet. The look on the Canadian's face was one of pure shock and perhaps...terror…?

"What is it, lad?" Canada didn't respond the British man's call, instead his grip on the headphone seemed to tighten while the look of wide eyed terror remained on his countenance.

France, followed by America, strode over to his former colony, "Mon Chou, this is not funny," he chided gently, eyeing the plastic audio device skeptically.

America gently pried the headphones from his brother's hand, once the offending sound was removed Canada shuttered and closed his eyes. Just what had he heard? Unable to stifle his curiosity, America pressed the device to his own ear and closed his eyes. There was something...something just beneath the static. It sounded like…a woman weeping. Yes, he had heard it time and time again. It was the one sound that never changed over the years. The sound of a woman who had just lost her loved one to war; the sound of a woman burying her child; the sound of a woman who had lost someone dear to her. It was a hollow, gnawing sound. A sound that offered no hope.

"There was more." Canada murmured, his violet eyes burning into America's own. America snapped out of his thoughts and quickly took the device from his ear and pressed it against the table. There was more? More that the haunting sound of a devastated woman?

Turning, he saw that the other countries were staring at him and Canada, while Italy clung awkwardly to Japan, still whimpering into the small man's shoulder. They were waiting in answers, answers that they knew they would likely regret, given how shaken both North American twins were. But they needed to know.

"Was it recorded?" America asked quietly, secretly hoping that it hadn't. Just the weeping was painful, he wasn't sure he wanted to hear what Italy and his brother had heard.

Canada nodded and turned to the laptop screen. "Yes. Hold on, I'll rewind it." America felt a chill run up his spine. He didn't want to hear it-he really didn't! But, he watched his brother pull the audio back to just before the lines indicating sound started and unplugged the headphones. "H-here it goes…" By that stutter, America knew that Matthew didn't want to listen to it again either, but he hit the _play_ button anyway.

The audio began.

" _Hello, hello, is anyone there?!"_ A woman with a French accent pleaded. _"Please! If anyone can hear me, please answer!"_ There was screaming and scuffling in the background. _"We are on the ship 'Queen's Revenge,' and requesting back up! There are too many of them, we are overrun!"_

There was the sound of splintering wood and what sounded like the unearthly bellow of something out of a child's nightmare. More screams could be heard. _"Merde! We are requesting back up!"_ The speaker's voice was becoming more strained and desperate. _"If we have any allies left alive, we need back up."_

" _She was pulled overboard!"_ A different feminine voice called in the distance as a multitude of other voices started talking unintelligibly in the background.

America felt sick. He wanted to punch the machines invoking the voices of women who might already be dead, he wanted to charge into the battle they'd so obviously been caught in and kill whatever was torturing them. He couldn't stand the helplessness he felt, yet the recording continued.

A string of French curses were uttered over the air _"Merde, merde, merde!"_ The voice of the broadcaster broke and a sob escaped her lips.

" _America, America what are you doing?! America, NO!"_ Yet another voice screamed in the background, seemingly pulling the speaker's attention.

" _Non, Amerique, ma chou!"_ The original speaker cried out. There was a clatter as though the speaker had suddenly dropped the mouthpiece and they could hear heeled shoes clamoring across a hard floor-away from the communicator. Then there was nothing but static and muffled sounds of far off voices.

Why had they been calling his name? Why?! America felt like he couldn't breathe. Maybe they weren't talking about him, maybe they were talking about an American? But still...what had that person done?

"America?" The voice snapped the country out of his thoughts like a splash of icy water. Turning his head slightly, the superpower saw Britain reaching out for him. His face, like that of all the others were pale with shock-even that damn Russian looked uneasy. "Lad, are you okay?"

The young country eluded the other's touch. Stepping back, he tried to laugh it off, to tell everyone that it would be okay, that he'd find the bad guys who did this and give them exactly what they deserved. But...he couldn't. Why had the voices called his name? Why?!

America shook his head slowly. He wanted to say something, but his throat felt tight. Looking around, it was plain, even to him, that his fellow nations were afraid and by the way they eyed his movements-afraid of him.

A hand clamped onto his shoulder and America turned instinctively to face his attacker, but was met with serene violet eyes. "I trust you, Alfie," Canada whispered, giving his brother a small smile. It wasn't Canada consoling America, it was Matthew comforting Alfred.

Before America could respond the recording sprang to life once again. It was the weeping, the damned weeping that was definitely going to haunt his nightmares.

" _If anyone can hear this, we've failed"_ The sobbing continued in the background. _"We are sorry…"_

The speaker didn't say another word, but the sound of muffled sobs continued and echoed off of the metal walls of the ship. It really was an awful sound: all but silent, yet it was a sound that wouldn't be denied.

 _CLICK._

"Well," England murmured, hand still resting on the sound system controls, "we know what he have to do, why are we still standing around here?!" His lime green eyes flashed to each of the countries.

Germany quickly recovered. "Yes, Britain is correct. We can't stand around, waiting for something to happen." Germany turned to the former Axis Powers. "Italy, stop crying all over Japan." His cool, blue eyes swept up to the Asian nation, "Japan, please continue to assist China with the navigation-we must find the source of these signals as fast as possible."

"Hai!" Japan nodded, gingerly untangling himself from Italy's clutches and hastening to his post.

England glanced over to France. "Frog, you take control of the ship. Disengage autopilot and follow Japan's directions exactly," he narrowed his eyes, "sink my ship and I _will_ kill you. Am I clear?"

"As crystal, rosbif," The country of love smirked, blowing a kiss to the island nation.

England's eye twitched as he stepped out of the path of the imaginary, airborne kiss. "Russia," the large nation snapped to attention, "would you please take over manning the radio?" America didn't miss the glance that Britain threw his way, "I think the others need a break for the moment."

The Russian nodded. "Da, of course!" He walked past the North American twins, taking the seat that Italy had vacated with such prejudice. Once again, America noticed the cool look the former Soviet gave him in passing. It wasn't suspicion or hate-those he was used to. Instead it seemed more…guilty...more like...pity?

"America!"

Hearing his name, the blond nation whirled around. "Yeah?"

England raised an eyebrow, "You, Canada, and Italy, come with me. We entered the circle a few minutes ago, we're going to the top deck to see if we can spot anything." Canada and Italy were already making their way to the door. "Some fresh air will do you good."

On the deck, America stared drearily into the sea, try as he might the audio from the call kept playing on a loop in his head. "What the hell was that?" He wondered aloud.

"Don't worry about it," the American looked up to see Britain leaning against the railing next to him. "It was eerie to be sure, but we mustn't lose sight of our objective." The Englishman sighed, "Besides, I need you to be ready to punch the goddamn lights out of whatever we do find."

America chuckled before a wind off the sea cut over the ship. "Damn it's cold," he muttered, pulling his bomber jacket more tightly around his neck.

England clicked his tongue is disdain, "It shouldn't have gotten this cold this quickly-even on the sea…" Looking around, it was apparent that something was not right, the sky was darkening although it was just past noon and a thick fog was billowing over the water. The Brit frowned. "The storm couldn't have possibly caught up to us."

As though to prove just how wrong the personification of the U.K. was, the sky flashed yellow with lightning that sprang from thin air. The water, that had been a dark gray-blue, turned black under a darkening sky.

"Fetch Canada and Italy and get below deck," England ordered, "I need to relieve the French Buffoon from his post, lest he kill us all in this storm."

America saluted, "Aye, Captain!" He teased, smirking as he saw the glint in the older country's eyes before he turned away and disappeared into the ship. Now, to get Italy and his brother. Last he saw, they had been staring off into the sea at the bow.

Heading to the front of the ship, America saw Canada gripping the side of the railing and staring into the ocean while Italy cowered behind him. "Yo, Bro!" America waved, heart dropping when Canada turned to him and immediately pointed into the sea.

"There's something moving in that water!" Cried Italy, covering his closed eyes.

Looking over the rail, America could see that the water had gotten even darker. Upon closer inspection, he could make out shadows writhing just under the glassy surface of the water, moving like a pool of earthworms. The water was no longer ebbing and flowing in the usual current, it was now whirling in circles, splashing the brackish water in every direction. That wasn't normal.

"Mattie!" Alfred called, having to raise his voice against the mounting wind, "Take Italy and get back into the ship!" He snapped his glasses from his face in a Clark Kent-esque fashion, tucking them safely into his inner jacket pocket. It wasn't like he actually needed them to see-they just hid his secret identity. And now, it was hero time!

"You're not staying out here by yourself!" Canada protested. America could just barely hear him over the roar of the wind and sea that was beginning to push the ship.

Glancing back to the water, the hero could now see large shadows swimming around the ship. It was concerning, as they seemed to be swimming closer and closer to the surface. Hairs raising in the back of his neck, America ran toward his brother and friend. "Let's go!" He grabbed Canada's wrist and hoisted Italy up by the waist, holding him like an American football against his torso.

Racing back to the ship's entrance, they had almost reached the door when something very large rammed the ship. Yelping in surprise, America lost his grip on Italy as the three countries fell to the floor and began to slide across the slick deck.

"ITALY!" A German voice yelled, grabbing the Italian by the boot before he could slide overboard.

At the same instant, someone caught America and Canada before they planted their faces into the deck. "What am I to do with you, mes garçons?"

"France, dude! Am I glad to see you!" America cheered, while Canada gave more subtle words of thanks.

"But of course!" The Frenchman nodded, flipping his hair before frowning. "What on earth is going on out here?!" In just a matter of minutes, the sunny, clear skies had turned into violet skies rumbling with yellow lightning, churning black waters.

"I think we found the cause of that distress call." Canada muttered, his eyes wide as he kept turning to look behind. "There are _things_ in the water…"

"All of you, go take cover inside," Germany commanded, dropping Italy safely inside the ship. He pulled a gun from a holster on his leg, "I'll patrol the deck." He walked cautiously to the railing and frowned upon looking down into the murk below.

"Hell naw," America whipped out his own gun, "Like you're not going to need another person to watch your back."

The German seemed to contemplate the proposal before nodding, "Fine, just keep a sharp look out. No telling what we're up against." He turned to the shivering Italian, "And you, get back into the cockpit with the others!"

"But, Germany!" The Italian whined, jumping back to the tall, blonde's side.

"No, buts!" Germany argued, unaware that large tentacles were creeping over the side of the ship and slithering close to the group.

"All of you," the group turned to see a very cranky-looking England. "Get back in the ship. China and Japan can't find any trace of any other vessel in the vicinity." America frowned, if there was no other ships in the area then...the distress calls...that meant they were… "We need to report these occurrences to our governments. Frog," he snapped at France, "go try to make contact with any naval vessel sailing by, with any luck either my or America's navy will be in close enough proximity to receive the messages-regardless of the storm." As the Frenchman nodded and returned to the cockpit.

"Without another ship in the area, there isn't any reason to linger here," England said slowly, "we are currently ill equipped to deal with...whatever is going on here. We need to fall back and devise a plan on what to do next-"

The ship lurched, sending even Britain's seafaring body slamming into the deck. "We've been rammed!" Germany growled, standing and surveying the damage. Around the side railing huge tentacles were wrapping themselves, pulling the ship to one side. "What the hell?!"

"We need to get that off!" England hissed, "If it manages to capsize the ship, we're through!"

"Leave that to us!" America grinned, nodding to Germany. Guns still in hand, both countries took aim for the large, black tentacles that were starting to bend the metal off of the ship.

Canada nodded, "We'll leave it to you then. I'll go get the others, we'll need everyone to get out of this!" The three other nations ran to get weapons and reinforcements, leaving America and Germany to what they did best.

As soon as the shots rang out, all hell broke loose. The ship heaved. Tentacles flew out of the water. Aiming left, then right, America tried to be careful of not sending or receiving friendly fire. The tentacles were no longer attached to the rails, the ship wasn't going to sink. Good! Now the tentacles were focused on annihilating what had hurt them. Shit!

Jump over the tentacles. Don't let them wrap around your ankles. Aim. Shoot. Damn! The rubbery tubes just kept taking the bullets and kept swinging. There were six-no-seven?! Too many to keep an eye on. Whatever creature they were attached to, America didn't want to find out.

"Aaghhh!" Turning, America saw one of the tentacles had wrapped itself around Germany's chest. His face was a tight grimace as the creature appeared to be trying to squeeze the life from him.

 _Just because we are hard to destroy doesn't mean we can't be hurt, or worse…_ England's words echoed through his mind.

Taking aim, America was about to squeeze the trigger when he was swatted from behind. Gun clattering to the deck, America felt dazed as the tentacle swiftly wrapped itself around his own chest. The pressure was terrifying. He didn't even have air in his lungs to scream.

Multicolored spots danced before his vision. By the time the others arrived, it would be too late for the American and definitely, too late for the German. Was this how it ended? Damn.

Something scampered across the deck. Vision fading, America squinted. Was that...Italy..? Yes! What the hell was the little Italian man doing?

Italy carefully crept around the tentacles that were resting on the deck or flailing through the air, his eyes locked on… America tried to focus, the corners of his vision fading to black. What was it?

The Italian picked it up and held it, trembling, before his face. His gun! America's handgun! The American prayed that Germany had taught the timid man something about handling the weapon.

 _ **BANG!**_

Suddenly the pressure was gone and America fell to the cold, metal deck. Filling his lungs gratefully with air, he could feel his head begin to pound. Exhaling, the American found himself choking, spitting out blood. Definitely some internal damage, but nothing that wouldn't heal. Nothing that could keep him from fighting.

Still panting, America looked up. Tentacles were flailing. The surprise attack clearly worked. Italy was trying to reach the German nation who was a crumpled mess on the ground. He'd be okay, Germany had survived much worse.

"America!" The young nation turned to see Canada and Britain rushing toward him, Russia and Japan going to protect Germany.

"Alfred! Are you alright?" Britain knelt next to the nation, pushing him into a sitting position. Canada, though he looked equally concerned, stood tall, a rifle aimed at any nearby tentacles.

"I'm alright," the American nodded, wincing slightly and clutching his chest. Yep, there were at least a few broken ribs. No biggy. Sure hurt like hell though.

"Good. Stay low until you're up to it," Britain rose, clicking the safety off his own gun. "Take it down!" He commanded. Russia did not seem to have any weapon, preferring to wrestle with the beast's appendages bare handed. Japan, katana unsheathed, sprung into action and began lopping off tentacles. One...two...thr-

The creature roared in pain and spiked Japan to the ground. The ship was thrashed around as the beast recoiled from the burn of the Japanese man's attacks. Struggling to keep their footing, the nations covered their ears and dodged flailing tentacles. Or tried to-

Canada was thrust to the ground and Russia was locked in a match against a squirming limb. In the blink of an eye, Italy was pulled from Germany's side and dragged, screaming, over the edge of the ship.

"ITALY!" The large blond nation bellowed, trying in vain to leap to his feet to go after the small Italian. His cried were mixed with similar cries of horror.

America met Germany's eyes which were wider than he'd ever seen them. He'd taken too much damage from the beast's clutches, he wasn't able to go after his friend. The German man's eyes were pleading.

He may not always understand the atmosphere, but message received. Wobbling to his feet, hissing at the ache in his torso, America began to run. Canada caught his eye, sending him a horrified glance. "He was pulled overboard!" America yelled, trying to explain his actions. Faster, faster! He needed to pick up speed! Perhaps they couldn't save the women from the distress calls, but he'd be damned if he let anything happen to his friends!

"America," This time it was Britain. He too had seen the American and looked terrified at the prospect of what the American intended. "America, what are you doing?!" No time to stop, he had to rescue his friend. Jumping onto the railing, the young nation took as deep a breath as his aching chest would allow. "America, NO!"

He leapt. A shiver ran through his spine. What did England say?!

Freezing cold! No time to think! America opened his eyes and propelled himself through the murky water. All around things were moving, things that could only be seen by the corner of the eye before darting back into the murk. Skin tingling from cold and fear, America shook those thoughts from his head. His punches might not be as effective underwater, but he knew it still packed a wallop. If anything got too close…

Italy! America could see the panicked look of the Italian, a huge, dark band clamped around his torso, pulling him deep into the sea. He dove. Kick, kick, kick! He had to catch up! If he didn't… No! He was the hero, and the hero always saved the day, now swim!

It didn't take long, the creature was bleeding profusely from the wounds it had collected and was moving sluggishly. Bubbles mixed with blood as the Italian seemed to be screaming underwater.

Clamping his hand over the Italians mouth, America's heart melted when he saw the relief that flooded the Italians eyes. Italy tried to grab him, but America blocked him and shook his head, trying to smile reassuringly to the timid man. The hero was here-never fear! Giving him a thumbs up, he swam ahead. He had a plan.

Creeping up to the creature's face, America saw what he had been expecting. A giant luminescent eye. If he could just get close enough to punch it's lights out…

The creature seemed to notice the presence of the nation and turned its giant eye to America, studying him. Chills. The eye was bigger than the he was! It was like looking into a mirror. In the dim bioluminescence, America could see himself in the dilated iris. How frightened his eyes looked, staring back at himself. The feeling of dread intensified, what was this? What was this monster doing to him?

Before his eyes, a metal version of the Stars and Stripes floated. His dog tag! It turned, reflecting his eyes.

A. Jones

United States of America

No, shake that fear from your bones! Italy was counting on him! He was Alfred F-ing Jones. No oversized sushi roll was going to reduce him to a crying, frightened child!

Shaking off anxiety, America pulled his arm back and punched with all his might. The density of the water prevented his full strength from hitting the beast. But like a torpedo, he was able to plant the hit with a respectable amount of force-disrupting his reflection.

Vibrations churned the water. The beast was crying. It's arms released Italy as it sped away deeper into the sea. Swimming to collect the smaller nation, America kept an eye on where the monster disappeared, unsure if it planned on returning. Taking Italy into his arms, America noticed that his eyes, though still open, were beginning to close. It wasn't likely that he would die so quickly, but he needed to get him back to the surface.

Looking back up, America realized just how deeply he had dove. The water around him looked deep green and the sky was still a deep violet-or at least that's how it looked. Flashes of yellow burst every now and again, filling the water with grotesque silhouettes of skeletal fish all around. What _were_ they?

A sick feeling of dread filled his chest. Welcome to wonderland.

With one last look down, to be sure the creature was not plotting to drag him back down as soon as he began his assent, America stopped cold. There was another person down there.

A woman. An hourglass figure, illuminated by the lighting. Medium length hair fanning around her and large eyes looking back at him. She seemed to be trapped by some unseen barrier, trying to get to him. He couldn't leave her! What if she had survived the distress calls, what if she could tell them what had happened?!

He looked to the nation resting on his chest. Crap! Italy's eyes were completely shut. He wouldn't die, right?!

It was a long way to the surface. Could he carry both up and still fight off anything the might attack them? Looking back up, he saw figures heading towards him. Now?!

As they came closer, he realized that he knew these figures. Germany and Canada were coming to help. Swimming to meet them, America passed Italy back into Germany with a nod. The German nodded back and began the ascent. Canada went to follow, but stopped when America swam back down.

America waved Canada off, he needed to make sure Germany would make it up to the surface. Reluctantly his twin swam up, but not without a stern look. He was expected at the surface as soon as possible. America nodded and gave a thumbs up. Satisfied, Canada followed Germany.

Okay, now for the girl. Diving deeper, America reached to girl and flashed her a smile. He was a hero, she had nothing to fear. She smiled back and reached out a hand to him. America, took it and gently tried to pull her up.

The girl's eyes opened wide as she shook her head wildly, pointing down over and over. Confused, America looked down. All he could see what the dim glow of what was likely phosphorescent plants.

Oh! America shook his head and pointed up. The girl was confused, she thought the surface was that way. Pulling the girl toward him, America was determined to bring her to the surface but was surprised with the girl pulled back. She was strong! Very strong for a human! But he was bigger and used his size to his advantage, using leverage to pull the girl up.

There was a sudden flash. Startled, America released the girl's hand in recoil. Had she just tried to electrocute him? Or had it been…something else?

Looking up, America could see that the entire surface of the sea was alight with the weird yellow lightning. He hoped Mattie, Germany, and Italy hadn't been caught in that.

More yellow flashes started coming faster, even within the water. Okay, that was freaky. Time for everyone to get out of the pool!

Looking to the girl, she was floating aimlessly, apparently knocked unconscious by the electrical charge. Uh oh. He needed to get her to the surface-fast.

Clutching the girl to his chest, America kicked as quickly as he could. Don't die, don't die, he prayed. Luckily, the mysterious fish seemed to stay away from the country and his passenger. The only time he thought he might have trouble was when a large black shark with glowing green eyes began to circle around them midway up before darting away into the dark waters. Not good, it would likely be back. At least the tentacled creature seemed to be gone for good.

After an eternity and a day, he broke the surface. Panting in the crisp salty air as he looked to the girl. She sputtered, eyes still closed, but alive-definitely alive.

"Oh, Thank God!" Alfred tucked the girl's honey-blonde head under his chin, relieved.

"Alfred!" Britain called, waving from a lifeboat a few feet away. "Oh, thank heavens!" Also in the boat were Canada, Germany, and Italy, all dripping wet and wrapped in blankets.

Swimming over to the boat, America chuckled. "We did it!"

"Shut up and get in the boat!" England snarled. He must've been really worried if he were acting so hostile now.

"Okay, okay." America laughed. "But first, here." He lifted the girl from the water and handed her to Britain.

"America...where did you..?" Canada asked, helping Britain pull the girl into the boat.

"She was under the water," America shrugged, taking Britain's hand and pulling himself into the boat.

"Is she one of the ones from the distress signal?" Germany asked, trying to towel off Italy's hair, much to the amusement of the Italian.

"I dunno, I guess we'll have to wait till she wakes up." America sighed, accepting a blanket from the German as the Brit began to row the boat back to the ship.

Canada was studying the girl, eyes wide. "A-Alfred?"

America hummed. "Yeah, dude, what's up?"

"Did you notice anything strange about this girl?" He asked, checking her over for broken bones and seeming relieved at not having found anything.

"Mmmm…" America thought for a moment. "Man, there was a lot of strange shiz down there. Could you be more specific?" He stretched his aching muscles. "Other than finding her underwater, she was probably the least weird thing that happened down there."

"Really?" Canada deadpanned. He picked up the girl and rested her against his chest. "Look."

At first America didn't see anything wrong. Then, his skin began to tingle. What the fresh hell?

The girl, clothed in a beige mini skirt and white crop top, was also wearing a brown bomber jacket-one with a large, white number 50 on the back. When had he put his jacket on the girl? Looking down, America's heart skipped a beat. How was he still wearing his jacket?

Looking from his jacket to the one that the girl was wearing was...odd. "What the f-"

"And that's not all," Canada continued, taking a pendant from the girl's neck. He tossed it over to America, who palmed it easily.

Opening his hand, America felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head. It was a dog tag...with the Stars and Stripes… Hand trembling, he turned the thin piece of metal over. Sure enough, it had an inscription:

A. Jones

United States of America

Numb, America didn't react when Britain took the metal from his hand and didn't move when he compared it to the metal still hanging from the American's neck. "What the devil...they're exactly the same…" he glanced to the shocked country. "I thought you had these made specially for us…"

"I did." America muttered, shaking his head. "They're supposed to be one of a kind."

They reached the ship and though it had been damaged by the earlier attack. It still seemed able to pull the lifeboats back on board. France threw the chains down to England who quickly attached them to either end of the boat.

Once securely attached, Russia hit the button that made the ship retract the chains and pull the boat from the water. Not that America even acknowledged what was going on, his thoughts were still swimming from the creature to the strange messages and finally to the mysterious girl he had pulled from the sea.

Mattie, now cradling the girl, took her on board the ship; followed by Germany and Italy. America's legs felt like lead. He just wasn't sure if it was from exhaustion or shock.

A hand ran through his hair. Snapping his eyes up, America saw England standing before him. "Come on, poppet," he coaxed gently, "brooding about it isn't going to solve anything. We'll get to the bottom of this." He extended a hand to the young country.

Taking England's hand, America stood and smiled. "Yeah, you're right."

Getting out of the boat the nations met in the small sick bay where the mysterious girl had been taken. She had been stripped of her clothes and was now sleeping on the infirmary bed in a plain white nightgown.

"You changed her clothes?!" America exclaimed, looking at France and Russia, feeling very violated on the girl's behalf.

Canada frowned, "I did. We couldn't keep her in soaking wet clothes."

Tsking, America nodded, somewhat placated that his twin had been the one to take care of the girl's dressing.

"Who is she and what was she doing out here?" Russia asked, turning to America.

"That's...a good question," America sighed. "We'll have to wait till she wakes up to find out."

* * *

 **Thank you for taking the time to read the beginning of my second work** _ **Lost Between Worlds.**_ **It has been a project I've been contemplating for some time.**

 **Let me know what you think ;P**

 **If/when I continue this story is up in the air. I do plan on completing my Rock Star AU fiction before continuing work on this one, but we'll see.**

 **Follows, Favorites, and Reviews are always welcomed. It gives me a good idea on how this work has been received and what needs some work.**

 **Anyways, Happy Independence Day, Americans!**

 **Till next time!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Hetalia is owned by Hidekaz Himaruya.**

A plain, white ceiling...funny...America didn't even remember going to sleep. Ugh, everything hurt from her sore appendages to her throbbing head, making it hard to think.

Groaning, the girl pressed her hand to her face to block out the light that was feeding her headache. Had she been hurt in the field? She seemed to recall chasing the Shadow Beasts all the way to the ocean...but...it got fuzzy after that… Damn, her head hurt.

"Ngh...what happened..?" She mumbled reaching her hand from under the covers, seeking the familiar touch of a friend. She frowned when she felt nothing but cool sheets all around her—not a trace that either Maddie or Alice were with her. Prying her eyes open, Amelia glanced around and found, to her disappointment, that neither of the nations were by her side. "Maddie..? Al..?" Amelia called, it was not like the nations to leave each other alone, not at a time like this…

After a moment, America began to get worried. It wasn't like her sister and friends to leave an injured nation unattended. Something was wrong.

"Alice..?" America called, pulling herself from the bed. Looking down she saw that she had been dressed in a simple white nightgown, like the one she'd had as a little girl. Weird… "Maddie..?" Slightly unsteady on her feet, the nation looked about the room, skin prickling with a sense of danger.

"Oh, you're up, I see, aru…"

Stiffening, America turned to see a man...woman..? Man, probably a man, with long brown hair walking into the room. Hackles raising, America finally remembered: the strange boy in the water and the unbearable pain she'd felt when he pulled her deeper into the sea. She should have known better than to play the hero...it was not a mistake she would make this time...

* * *

Who was the girl in the infirmary? Where did she come from? Was she tied to the strange radio calls for help? America doodled idly on the paper that he was supposed to be taking notes on, as the rest of the G7 held a meeting about what was to be done with their unscheduled passenger.

"...I move that we use some means to ensure that she stays under tight observation and is detained to the infirmary," Germany stated, folding his arms over his bandaged chest. "Until we know more about her, the girl poses a potential risk to us all." His voice echoed sharply off of the metal walls of the cockpit.

"Aww...but Germany!" The Italian nation whined, "She's a Bella! We can't treat her like a common criminal!" His closed eyes appeared to be brimmed with tears.

"Oui, I agree with Italy," France nodded. "She is a lady and we should treat her like one."

"Gender aside," Canada murmured. "Due to her rapid healing powers, we're fairly certain that she is one of us—a country. If we're correct, wouldn't detaining her be considered an act of war?"

Silence filled the room at the Canadian's accusation. They all knew that it was a declaration of war to carry out malicious action against another personification. These specifications varied, but as an unknown personification, there would be no way of knowing what she would find "malicious".

"Canada-San is right," Japan agreed, "The...uh...other American-San has not done anything to warrant such extreme measures. We could try talking to her first, to measure her threat level."

America watched the scene unfold before him like a spectator. It was hard to believe this was happening to him and not part of some bad TV show… It was interesting to see the varied reactions of the other nations of course, but in the end he felt that he did not have the right to input, given the bizarre way the situation seemed to surround him.

"I agree with Japan," Britain nodded, arms folded across his chest. "The probability that she knows something about those strange transmissions is very high. It would serve our best interest to befriend the lass, rather than make an enemy. We'll learn more this way."

Red lights began to flash as a shrill, barking siren blared, forcing the nations to cover their ears. America watched as Britain rushed to the control panel and quickly punched several buttons before the noise died down. "What the hell was that..?" America asked, still eyeing the flashing red lights skeptically.

Not sparing a look to the young nation, Britain began tapping wildly at the keys. "Glad to see that shook you out of your stupor…" he snapped, causing the blue-eyed nation to recoil. "It's about time… you being quiet for too long is never a sign of anything good…"

America frowned. "Oookaaaay...so, what's going on..?" he asked again, rising from his seat to spy over the Brit's shoulder.

"That was a panic alarm…" Britain snapped, eyes going over what looked like rudimentary blueprints for the vessel. "There!" he exclaimed pointing to a small rectangle on the screen. "It looks like something happened on Floor 2, Sector A…" His eyes widened, "The fire-arms vault."

"I thought you said there were limited arms on this ship." America was slightly startled to see that Germany was behind him, also eyeing the screens.

"There are," The green-eyed nation confirmed, "the only weapons on this vessel are the ones we brought aboard with us and the antique ones in that storage room—they are only for decoration" He looked thoughtful. "I doubt if they would even work after all these years of disuse…"

"Apparently, our passenger didn't know that…" the German mused, frowning at the screen.

"Decidedly not…" England sighed before clearing his voice. "America, any idea as to what that girl is thinking?" The question had been asked gently enough, the Brits green eyes never leaving the screen, but the American couldn't help but feel uncomfortable.

"Um...well," he thought aloud, looking up to the ship's ceiling as he tried to find the best possible way to phrase his explanation. "The best I can figure is that she'll probably...try to…" Oh God, England was not going to like this answer. "take over the ship..?"

"WHAT?!" England and Germany squawked in unison. England tore his eyes from the screen to glare incredulously at the young American.

Alfred grinned, sheepishly scratching the back if his head. "Um...well, in her position, I'd assume that I'd been taken captive. So, I'd carry out plan 148C, 'Caged Eagle'."

Germany pinched the bridge of his nose and England rolled his eyes dramatically before asking, "And what, on God's earth, is 'Plan 148C'?"

"Take control of the enemy ship or…" His voice trailed off.

"Or, WHAT?!" Britain hissed, finally losing patience.

"Do everything in my power to disarm and destroy it-no prisoners…"

Alfred watched as all of the color drained from his former-elder brother's face, feeling incredibly guilty.

"We have to stop her!" Whirling back to the screen, England furiously pounded on the keys, flipping the screen back to the security cameras, three of which were black. "She's taking out the security cameras as she's going…" His eyes scanned the monitors closely. "It looks like she's made her way from the sick bay to somewhere between the corridors of Floor 2, sectors B and C."

"Then we haven't any time to lose," Germany declared, turning to the rest of the countries who were watching on in silence. "We will split up into teams to stop her. Our goal it to capture her, not to harm her, though if it comes down to a fight, use as much force needed to incapacitate her, but not more. Understand?" His words were crisp and concise.

"Japan, you and Italy will stay here and man the ship," the tall blond ordered. Japan nodded once, sharply and Italy seemed to quietly agonize over his roll—though he did not protest.

"France and Russia, you will go to check on China while England, Canada, America, and myself will split into pairs to find the girl. Everyone clear?" No one made a sound. "Good. Move out."

* * *

America managed to partner up with his twin and was racing down the hallway, dragging his brother behind before Canada had a chance to process what was happening. One minute, the northern brother was listening to the German's plan, the next he was being pulled along like an old rag doll. He felt sure that there would be a great, black bruise on his wrist very soon.

"Al, where are we going?" he asked, yelling to be heard over his and his brothers pounding feet.

"No time to explain Mattie, but we got to be the first ones to find her!" the southern brother bellowed, rounding a corner without slowing at all.

Canada predicted one bruised wrist and perhaps a case of whiplash when this was over. "Why?" he asked, throat already dry and sore from speaking so loudly.

Alfred didn't give any indication that he had heard his brother's question, though Matthew had a sneaking suspicion that he was just being ignored—again! Sighing, the Canadian made begrudging peace with the fact that he would have to go along with his brothers scheme if he wanted to know what he was planning.

Swinging around another corner, the American came to a sudden halt, presented with the sudden choice of two corridors. "Which one..?" the Canadian heard his twin mutter. Before he had time to catch his breath, Canada was once again being pulled through the ship.

"Al, are you sure..?" America certainly did not seem sure just a moment ago.

"Yeah, dude! Totally sure—I can feel her…"

Um...that didn't sound right… Canada frowned, wondering if his twin was being literal. A cold tingling hummed through his body, Matthew pulled against his brother and forced the overly energetic county to slow to a halt.

"You can _feel_ her..?" He asked, hoping that he had misunderstood what his brother had been saying. After all, America was not the most articulate country.

"Mmm-hmmm…" America hummed in assent, eyes avoiding Canada's searching gaze. "It's like...I know exactly what i would do in her place—and i know that is exactly what she is doing. Like... I can feel what she's feeling—you know?"

Thinking for a moment, Canada decided that he had no clue what Alfred was talking about. Though he and his twin could be very in-tune with the others feelings (okay—mostly Canada—but America had his moments too...sometimes), he couldn't imagine knowing exactly what went on in his brother's head. Truthfully, until this moment he hadn't really thought that America knew what went inside his own head most of the time.

Not knowing how to answer, he stayed silent—it wasn't like America was actually expecting an answer anyway. Alfred took advantage of the silence and began to pull Matthew through the hallways once more.

What was happening? It didn't seem to fit. Distress calls, the weird storm, the "other America"? It was no wonder that everyone was on edge, but it was eerie to see Alfred so shaken by the events. This was all so wrong!

America stopped cold. The stop was so sudden that the violet-eyed brother careened into his sibling's back. "Oww…" he muttered, adjusting his glasses that had been pressed into his face by the impact. "What the hell, Al?"

America slowly turned his face to his brother, his eyes devoid of their usual good humor. "Can't you feel it?" He asked softly, before turning back to face the corridor ahead. "She's here and she is not happy."

Alfred had the same look that he had when he and Russia got into their...disagreements. Jaw set, brows gathered, and stony, cold eyes that betrayed no mercy.

"Do you really feel that your doppelgänger would be a threat?" Canada, looked past his brother and suddenly felt a chill run up his spine. America may not read the atmosphere often, but this was something different entirely. It felt like the intimidating aura that seemed to cling around Russia when he was upset—threatening and malevolent.

"She knows that we are coming for her and she has positioned herself for an ambush." Alfred speculated, "We're probably somewhere near the engine room—if she feels threatened, she'll take that out as her last resort." America ran a hand roughly through his hair. "I think I can talk her out of it, but—" He cut himself off, seemingly weighing his options.

"But, what?" A gruff voice demanded.

Whirling their heads around, the twins saw Germany and Britain approaching swiftly—apparently having overheard at least part of their conversation.

"What were you going to say, America?" Britain questioned, face grim.

America sighed, "But, I'm not sure that the protocol to call off the plan is the same where she comes from."

"I don't follow," the green-eyed nation pressed.

"There are fail-safes that my government put in place to ensure that if there was ever a misunderstanding—they would be able to communicate with me and stop whatever plan was in action."

Germany raised an eyebrow. "Would this help us to stop her?" America nodded, but still looked unsure.

"Maybe...it's worth a try anyways…" He looked to his brother. "I want Canada to be my backup. You two wait out here—I don't want to make her feel more threatened than she already does."

England frowned sourly. "Fine, we'll give you ten minutes. After that, we're coming in—understood?" He crossed his arms as he starred his former colony down, obviously not taking "no" for an answer.

Saluting, America winked. "You got it—Britain-dude!"

Before the kingdom could respond, Alfred was already dragging Matthew toward the threshold. Canada could feel the dark aura getting thicket and every instinct in his body was preparing for battle. If this girl really was some alternate version of America, she would be militaristic, fast, and unlikely to give them the chance to prove that they were not her enemies. In all honesty, there were very few scenarios that came to mind that did not end with blood spilt from at least one side. Glancing to his brother, the Canadian prayed that America had a plan.

As they got closer to the threshold, the brothers began creeping close to the walls. Walking lightly as though the mere sound of their footfalls would send the mysterious girl into a murderous rage.

America held out an arm—stopping Canada from getting any closer. "Wait…" he whispered, reaching into the pocket of his bomber jacket. After a second of rummaging, he pulled out what appeared to be a coin.

Matthew raised a brow. "How is that going to help us?" He whispered, exasperation filling his voice.

Rather than answer, Alfred gave him a grin before chucking the small piece of metal into the room beyond. Before Matthew had the chance to be confused, there was a loud explosion that followed the tinkling chime of the coin making contact with the floor.

" _She has a gun_?" He whispered furiously, glaring at his brother who, for his part, did not look surprised in the slightest. " _Where the fuck did she get gun_?"

America shrugged, still smirking before he called out. "Hey! Dude-Ette!" Silence. "We come in peace," Canada rolled his eyes at his brother's cliché line. "So don't shoot, got it?"

A few moments passed before Alfred seemed to decide that the danger had passed and took a tentative step into the room, arms sliding their way toward the ceiling in a show of surrender. Canada bit his cheek, anxiously awaiting the sound of a bullet careening into his twin's body. It never came.

"Look, I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding here." Canada released the breath that he had been unaware he had holding. It seemed like America was attempting his "Southern Charm" on his counterpart, the way that his voice was easy and slightly lilting.

There was the sound of boots shuffling before the girl finally spoke. "I know your friend is just outside the door." She stated, her voice was oddly nice. Feminine and confident, if it were not for the cold edge to her voice it would it would have been the exact way that Canada would imagine his brother would sound—if he were instead his sister.

"Yo, Mat," Canada glanced up and saw that America was glancing at him from within the room. He was smiling—it was strained—but a smile nonetheless. "She wants you in here."

Taking a breath, Canada shuffled into the room, raising his arms above his head. Keeping his eyes trained on the floor, Canada continued listening to the exchange between the girl and his brother.

"Who are you?" She demanded, "And why did you abduct me..?"

"Well, ya see…" America fumbled over his words. "I didn't mean to 'abduct' you...it was more of a rescue mission...gone wrong…" The nation cleared his throat nervously. "Would ya mind putting those away..? It's kinda hard to explain what happened when you've got your glocks trained on me and my brother."

There was the sound of the safety being engaged on her weapons and America chuckled. "Thanks...that makes things easier…"

Glancing up, Canada saw that his brother was smiling tensely. So far so good, it seemed...at least they were still in one piece. Not that a gun wold easily kill them of course, but it could do more than a bit of damage...in addition to hurting like hell. Training his eyes to the girl, Canada was surprised to see that she was standing roughly a meter from where he and his version of America were standing with their heads above their heads.

Now that she was conscious she was exactly how the Northern brother imagined his twin would look as a female. Her honey-blonde hair was cropped short, cupping her face and brushing against her shoulders with loose waves. However, it was her eyes that struck the Canadian, her eyes we the exact shade of cerulean that he had come to associate with his brother's lively eyes—a color that he had never seen a natural human possess.

"Who are you?" The blonde repeated, looking from Alfred to Matthew. "Start talk'in or—"

"Alright, alright…" America was nearly laughing now—though whether it was genuine or out of stress, Canada could not determine.

The southern country cleared his throat. "The six-starred general asks you to lay down your weapons, your duty is done and the battle is won."

Blinking, Matthew looked up at his brother. What the hell was Alfred saying?! It was so scripted—so not America… Glancing to the girl—eyes darkened and brows furrowed, she looked almost as confused as the Canadian felt.

However, the girl closed her eyes and took a breath. "And from whist do you come with the authority to relay such orders, my soldier?"

As though on cue—which Canada was now thoroughly convinced to be the case—America dropped to one knee and lowered his eyes to the floor. "I am but a humble servant of the People, my Fair Country."

The girl scrutinized Alfred for a moment longer, before the weapons disappeared from her hands. She crept over to where her counterpart knelt and cupped his chin in her hand, directing his face to look into her own.

"Who are you…?" She asked again, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes scanned over Alfred's face as though searching for something. "You are obviously an American...but," she closed her eyes. "You are like me…"

A crooked smile appeared on America's face, "Don't worry—we're pretty confused as well. But, I swear, we were never going to hurt you! We're totally on the same team!"

Canada sighed in relief—it looked like the female America would not be putting a barrage of bullets through their bodies. Where had the guns come from anyway? He had been so happy that she had stopped aiming them at their bodies that he had neglected to track where they had fallen. Well...as long as they were not in her hands and aimed at their heads, right?

"I can't believe that actually worked…" The three countries spun around to catch sight of England.

"Britain! What the hell, Dude?!" America knitted his brows, his cheeks growing a dusty shade of rose.

"Britain?" The girl asked, taking a few paces back, glancing between America and England like a cat that has been cornered between two dogs. "No! No, no, no… That..that can't be right!" She glared at the British nation. "You're not—you can't—" she shook her head and growled. "Who the hell are you!?" Her eyes glared at America, darted to Canada, and then rested on England.

"Easy, Poppet…" It was England's turn to put his hands up. "You have my word that all will be explained, I just need you to trust us—just for the moment. Do you think you can trust us?"

The girl looked at England, her hands hovering above her hips, fingers twitching with unease. It was a habit that America had learnt in her Wild West days when quick draw was more that just a hobby. Though there were no holsters or guns at her side, it was not a good side that she felt the need to reach for a weapon. Apparently the girl shared more with his brother than a vague resemblance—hopefully she shared his soft-spot for their old "Big Brother".

* * *

Hello All, it's been a while, hasn't it?

First of all, thank you for taking the time to read this chapter.

Also, a special thank you to: Inky-Paws, ZyvreinDAwesome, Gust, Olivia Kirkland, Paradoxkay, Walmart, and NightlyRowenTree for your kind comments. It really does mean a lot to me that you took the time to comment on this piece. Writing for a silent audience is not as satisfying as getting feedback, you know?

Anyway, thank you for your patience. This chapter has been a long time in the making and, if I'm being completely honest I've been a bit down to see the fandom family dwindling. But, I decided that as long as I find inspiration to write and there are people who put up with (enjoy?) my flights of fantasy then I will continue to post for those still in my community.

Sincerely, I thank you.

As always, feel free to send me a private message if you'd like. As I said, I really appreciate this community.

It may be a while before the next chapter (I hope not but...we'll see). However, it shouldn't be longer than the time between chapter one and chapter two.

Until Next time! Xoxo

22/9/2018


	3. Chapter 3

Looking at the two Americans, it was easy to see that they shared more than just the superfluous resemblance of blond hair and blue eyes. Their way of moving, their mannerisms, even the way their emotions were betrayed by their eyes were the same. This fact would normally amuse the Englishman—that is, if it weren't for the fact that they were both holding him in a stare full of incredulous awe.

"Come on, Igs!" Alfred exclaimed,crossing his arms and slamming them to his chest. "I'm doing my best to wrap my head around the fact that me and her are the same person-"

"She and I—" Arthur corrected, annoyed at both the country's disbelief and his awful grasp of the English language.

Rather than correcting himself, Alfred scowled and continued on as though Arthur had not interrupted. "How in the hell can you expect me to believe that she was brought here by a magical portal?!"

"He does have a point," the female America agreed, eyeing the Brit with a mixture of boredom and suspicion. "What do you think would make me believe that this—any of this—could be caused by magic?" Wearing clothes that had been drenched in sea water and dried quickly in the ship's facilities, the girl looked about as tired as she sounded. The only thing that did not look as though it had been drowned in the ocean was her jacket. That gave him an idea...

Clicking his tongue, Britain sighed. "America give me your jacket." Looking to the girl, he added, "You as well…" Grumbling, Alfred shrugged off the oversized bomber jacket while the girl raised an eyebrow but made no move to comply. "Please, just humour me," Arthur asked.

Reluctantly, the girl began shrugging off her jacket as soon as Alfred handed his off to the Brit. Once she had her jacket off, she handed it to Canada who, in turn, passed it to Britain. It was just as he had noticed before, they were completely identical—except for the girl's was a bit smaller. This would likely work, if he were right then this should prove that the girl really was from another universe, one that was parallel to their own. He hung the girl's on his arm for the moment as he studied Alfred's.

"Right, now...America," both the blue-eyed countries regarded him carefully. "Er—My America…" Arthur corrected, watching the girl cross her arms and frown. "When did you acquire this...jacket…?"

Alfred raised a brow, but obliged. "Right before the First World War."

The girl nodded in agreement, "Yeah, same here." Her eyes were the exact same hue as Alfred's and full of mistrust.

Britain nodded. "So, over one hundred years?" Both "Americas" nodded. Canada looked to Britain, confused. It was obvious that the boy was just as lost as his… siblings… were.

"Leather generally doesn't keep so well in the elements—especially when it's over one hundred years old." Matthew tilted his head, curiously looking at the material as Alfred and the girl both scrunched their brows in contemplation.

Good, at least they seemed to be paying attention… even showing interest. "It would make sense for antiques to be this old and this well maintained if they were only for decorative purposes, but not when worn on a near- daily basis."

Flipping Alfred's jacket open, the Brit found what he had been looking for, a small rune carefully stitched into the lapel of the jacket in green thread- just above the heart would be. "I put this in your jacket to keep it safe, America. You do so many idiotic things before breakfast, it was only a matter of time before you irreparably damaged this beloved coat."

"Hey!" Alfred hissed, ripping the jacket from Arthur's hands. "Not cool dude!" Peering at the tiny embroidery on the inside of his jacket, the nation scowled. "Who gave you permission to put your voodoo crap on my things?!"

"It's not voodoo!" England bristled. "You know that my magic is one hundred percent, pure Black Magic! How dare you even compare the two! I mean really! I—"

"So what does this have to do with me?" It was obvious that the girl was getting impatient, she looked toward the door. "I mean...even if I believed in this 'magic' bullshit, it's not like _you_ could've put anything on my jacket." Her eyes slipped back at the island nation and narrowed. "That is, unless you were the one that took me…"

Shooting America one last scathing glare, England straightened up and cleared his throat. The boy would just have to be educated about the intricacies of magic at a later date. "Right...that is not what I am getting at, at all." He took the girl's jacket in his hands. If this was going to work, he was going to need a whole lot of luck as she seemed to be as oblivious to magic as Alfred. "I have never been to your world—but, I believe that your 'Britain' likely did the same thing I did for Al-" He stopped himself and Alfred shot him a look for almost disclosing his human name to the doppelgänger. "Er—America's jacket."

The girl did not seem to notice the slip, though her gaze did not waver from her jacket. "Even if it does have that symbol, couldn't you've just put it on while I was unconscious?" Her eyes never left the coat as though she were convinced that if she looked away for a moment it would be switched out for a fake.

"No," Britain shook his head. "To cast a charm of this magnitude, it would take days…" He extended the leather jacket out to her.

The girl's finger brushed the hem of the coat, hand trembling ever so slightly over the edge. "That's not true. It probably isn't even magic...it wouldn't take too long to stitch random lines." There was a hesitation in her voice—doubt. While the girl certainly didn't believe him, she wasn't so sure of herself either. This, he could work with...

"I can assure you, I would not do such a thing."

Taking a breath, the girl flipped the jacket open with a quick flick of the wrist. Britain was relieved to see that his hunch had been correct. Right above the breast, on the interior lining of the girl's jacket was an identical symbol to the one in Alfred's jacket, with identical green thread. There was one major difference, however. The rune in the girl's garment was glowing, flickering as the magic in the fibers rebelled against something unseen. Small sparks of magic jumped from the emblem and exploded in the air.

The girl hissed and immediately took a few paces back. "What's happening?" Her eyes reflected suspicion in their blue depths.

In truth, Britain was fairly surprised as well. "The charm must be reacting to the sudden change in atmosphere—perhaps it's over worked," he was reasoning to himself more than to Canada or either of the Americas. "The jacket must have helped to protect you when you were pulled through the portal to our world." He looked to the doppelgänger and saw that she was more suspicious than convinced. He sighed deeply. "How can I make you—"

Suddenly he had a thought. "I know how to prove I am who I claim." Slowly, he walked toward the girl. "Living as long as we do, we see more than any ordinary human: the dawn of millennia; the fall of eons; more war, death, and bloodshed and an ordinary person can bear." The doppelgänger flinched, but she didn't move as Britain approached.

"Good or bad, these events leave marks on us. When you live long enough, these experiences are reflected in our eyes. When countries die and new ones are born, if you look closely enough, sometimes you can see the same eyes reappear throughout the years." He thought of Ancient Greece, The Holy Roman Empire, hell, even his own mother, Britannia.

He was standing in front of the girl now, she was slightly shorter than he and kept glancing away—unwilling to maintain eye contact. "Look," he commanded as gently as he could. "Or, are you afraid of what you'll see?"

Questioning the girl's bravery worked as well as it did when he questioned Alfred's. It was almost laughable. Her face snapped to attention, defiantly challenging Britain to hold her gaze. It reminded Arthur of Alfred when he declared his independence and the memory speared his heart. In an instant, he was reminded of that night in the rain, muskets aimed at each other, bayonets sharpened and ready to cut down the enemy, and how painfully his heart had been racing as Alfred looked at him with such anger.

Cool fingers on his cheeks snapped him out of his memory. He shuddered: as he had said, such events left marks on upon those who remembered.

The female America was looking at him with wide eyes, scanning his face, back and forth. "How can it be?" She muttered. Her eyes dilated, taking in as much as possible. Her lower lip began to tremble. Were those traces of tears in her eyes?

Before the kingdom could react, the blonde girl threw her arms around his waist. "England! It is you!" She was shaking slightly as she pressed her face to his chest.

Taken aback, England looked to America who looked as thoroughly confused as he felt. Shifting his gaze to Canada, he saw that the nation was motioning him to put his arms down and accept the female nations embrace.

Rolling his eyes, Britain took a breath and slowly lowered his arms and placed them around the girl. "I'm glad that I finally got through to you…" He rested a hand in her head.

"I'm so glad that you're here," the girl murmured, her voice muffled by the materials of the nation's uniform. England's heart melted. Just as he had had visions of his America as a revolutionary rebel, he could now picture this version of his former colony as the sweet child that he found all those hundreds of years ago.

The girl whimpered quietly. "What's wrong poppet?" He asked petting the blonde's head.

"Your eyebrows are weird!" The girl whined.

America and Canada burst out laughing, doubling over after a few moments and unable to catch their breath.

England groaned. Yes...this was, indeed...a female version of America.

God help them all…

* * *

Even I am surprised. Two chapters in as many months? This hasn't happened...for a while...

Sorry about that...

Anyway, this chapter is a bit shorter than previous chapters...but I honestly couldn't picture a better place to leave off! XD

Thank you to all who have read, followed, and favorited this story! It really makes me happy to know that there are some people who tolerate my writing style and weirdness.

A special thanks to **NightlyRowenTree** and **Olivia** **Kirkland**! Readers such as yourselves really inspire me to keep going and posting So, **thank** **you**!

As always, feel free to comment or private message! I may not be the fastest at responding, but I love correspondence with people who share my interests :)

Until we meet again

xoxo

Word count: 1,733

Published: 6.10.2018


	4. Chapter 4

"State your name for the records."

The blonde girl looked up. "Seriously?" She looked to England, like a child looking for reassurance—or maybe for backup. No such luck. The former empire merely nodded.

"Go on, Poppet."

Typical, of course England would tell the girl to submit rather than defy the request—not that America saw any reason for the girl to rebel. But, jeez, it was irritating to see an alternate version of himself having to follow the requests of the other nations so blindly.

They were back in the control room. Once England had convinced his—uhhh...doppelgänger of their identities and intentions, he had insisted on taking the girl back to the control room and debrief the team of what was going on. Yes, of course, America was just as curious about the girl as everyone else and didn't mind the idea of a debriefing! But this...this seemed more like an interrogation than a debriefing. The girl was given a seat in the middle of the table as all of the other nations faced her on the opposite side—save for Britain and Canada who stood on either side of the girl.

America himself sat at the end of the table, his fists balled to keep himself from acting out once the questioning started—which began shortly after Britain gave a brief rundown of how alternate universes worked like funhouse mirrors, so the girl's world would be much like their own but with small differences.

Taking a deep breath and sighing, the girl looked straight ahead, past the microphone that had been placed in the center of the table in front of her. "I am 'The United States of America,'" She glanced in Alfred's direction. He fought the urge to look away.

"Though, as it seems that you already have an 'America' you can call me 'Miss. America,' 'United States' or ' U.S.' for short." The girl continued, looking back to the other countries who were still openingly gawking at her as though she were some type of oddity. Defiance glowed in her eyes.

"Erm...yes," Germany acknowledged. "Miss America, would it be possible for you to explain how it was that you came to be here?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "The Brit already told ya, I was pulled through a portal or something like that…"

"Yes," the German agreed. "But, would you mind telling us how you came to be in the middle of the ocean?"

Some light left the girl's eyes. "Oh…." She ran a hand through her honey-blonde locks. "We were on a mission…" she signed, looking down at the table. "We were… we were taking them down, we had chased them to the sea." Though dull, her eyes had a far away look. "Italy…she accidentally got caught by a monster," she placed her elbows on the table and pressed the heel of her hands to her eyes as though trying to block out an image. "It grabbed her and dragged her down."

Britain and Canada shared a glance over the girl's head. America could almost see the effort both exerted as they avoided looking in his direction. This story sounded like it was exactly what had happened to all of them just a few hours before, at least exactly as America remembered it.

"I dove in after her and managed to rescue her from the creature," the girl slowly raised her face from her hands. "But...then I saw another person in the water…" America felt his skin begin to tingle, yes he remembered this part. She had reached out to him and he to her, both trying to save the other.

"And that is how you and America crossed paths and he pulled you into our world…" Arthur surmised. "But could you elaborate on who it was that you were pursuing in your world?"

"The Revenants…"

Alfred snapped to attention as a shiver ran through his spine. His female counterpart looked paler than she had before and her pupils had constricted into tiny pinpricks. The American himself could feel the hairs stand on end at the back of his neck. Though he was unsure why, America could feel terror trickling through his bloodstream.

"Um, apologizes, but what are the revenants?" Japan asked.

The girl regarded the black-haired nation as though unsure if the man were trying to deliberately bring up painful memories or if he were really that naive. "They—they destroyed my home." Silence filled the control room, broken only by the occasional beep from the navigation. England placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, seemingly unsure what to say but she shrugged him off. "It is because of them that the White House fell; Lady Liberty crumbled; and my people…" With a sharp intake of breath, she pounded her fists on the table, squeezing her eyes shut. "They are evil and they have to be stopped!"

She had hit the table so hard that there were dents in the metal where her hands had made impact.

America felt his mouth run dry. What did she mean that her white house had fallen? Like, the government had collapsed? It was unthinkable. Sure...Canada and Britain had burned the White House down a couple of centuries ago, but that was war. Buildings crumble and burn, God knew that he'd seen a lot of that in his recent history. Even if the White House were toppled by an earthquake, razed by fire, or crushed by a meteor, his people were resilient— they would always rebuild.

However, the way the girl said it had the ring of finality, as though the very heart of the land has been corroded beyond repair.

Japan's eyes were wide as the feminine American fought to regain her composure. "Apologies, Ms. America...I didn't know…"

"You didn't know..?" Her eyes were pinpricks of suspicion and, though her voice was quiet, it would be impossible not to feel the malice that dripped from her words. She looked to the other faces that surrounded her first to Japan and Germany, then France, Russia, and then on to Italy and China. "You didn't know?" She repeated as she settled her gaze to the slim Japanese man.

"You Didn't know of the creatures that reduced Mount Fuji and its surrounding forests to shouldering (Smoldering?) ashes?" Japan flinched as his face went pale. "You weren't aware that they toppled the Leaning Tower of Pisa or that the Louvre is now nothing more than a pile of rubble?" Italy and France both uttered small cries when their respective national treasures were listed and the female starred at them.

The girl searched their faces as though trying to find any trace of untruth in their expressions. She opened her mouth to continue, but Alfred could not let her—it was too painful to watch her counter-interrogate his friends.

Sighing and placing his hands on the table, America interrupted. "They are telling the truth." His female doppleganger froze and regarded him with the side of her eye. "We don't know what you are talking about."

"But, how is that possible?!" She demanded, turing to England with wide eyes. "I thought that our worlds acted like a mirror—one reflecting the other's events."

"Usually it is the case that alternate universes are like looking into a mirror that is subtly warped," he agreed. "However, I'm beginning to think these 'revenants' of which you speak are more than international terrorists—it sounds like they were very successful in dominating your world."

"And have their sights set on yours…" Miss America concluded, sitting back in her seat.

"Hold on," Germany held up a hand. "We haven't seen any proof that anything even passed through from another world- present company excluded, of course." He raised a brow. "We need to process with caution until we have ascertained whether anything actually crossed into our world.

The girl looked at the tall German up and down slowly, eyes cold and calculating as though milling over the probability of what he had said. Germany met the girls eyes unflinchingly, crossing his arms across his chest.

The girl dropped her gaze in favor of glaring at the navigation that still beeped and chirped quietly in the background. "I hope you're right, for your sake…"

Pushing her seat from the table, the girl shouldered past Matthew and headed toward the door.

"Do you think we should be concerned with what the girl says?" Russia asked, his eyes fixed on Matthew as the Canadian ran after the strange girl and the door snapped shut behind them.

England hummed in thought. "I have no doubt that she believes that there is a threat…"

"But do you think something crossed into our world?" China pressed.

"We came on this expedition to learn the origin of the mysterious cries for help we've all been hearing," Japan chimed in. "Ms. America's account seems to match the dialogue within the radio call, it would make sense that these creatures are indeed what our Nyos were trying to catch."

"Nyos?" France asked, tilting his head curiously.

"Hai," Japan agreed, "our female counterparts: our Nyos." America couldn't help but admire the facts that japan not only had thought about the term to use for the gender bent versions of themselves, but that he acted as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

As the other nations continued to discuss and argue amongst themselves as to whether or not there could be any truth to uh….Nyo-America's tale, Alfred decided to sneak out and find where the girl and his brother had gone.

America found his twin on the deck, staring forlornly up the ship's mast. "Yo! Canadia!" He smiled at the sour look Canada shot him. "Where is my clone?"

Though he was obviously not pleased with the butchering of his name, Canada nodded to the highest point of the mast. "Sitting on your perch…" he sighed dramatically. "I don't know what to do."

American playfully punched his brother's shoulder, making him wince—oops—and laughed. "No worries dude, I need something to get my mind off of the depressing meeting we just had!" Before the Canadian could ask what he meant, America began to climb the mast, expertly finding the knots in the wood to use as hand and foot holds. It didn't take long before he was nearing the top.

"Hey!" He called. The girl looked over her shoulder. "Mind if I join ya?" He was already perching himself on the mast, it wasn't like he would be deterred even if she said no.

But, the female simply shrugged her shoulders and turned back to regard the sea. "What are you doing up here?" She asked, not turning to meet his face.

Alfred took a seat with his back against hers, looking at the opposite horizon. "Checking on you," he answered honestly. If she were truly himself from another universe, there was no point in hiding the truth. "You—ah—you really stirred them up back there, you should hear them arguing!" He chuckled half-heartedly, unsuccessfully trying to relieve the tension—there was no reaction from the girl.

Sighing, America rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, I know this hasn't been the warmest of welcomes, but you have to admit that...the stuff you were saying back there...it's just a little hard to believe…"

"Do you believe me?" The girl asked.

America blinked, watching a gull in the distance as he mulled over the question. "I do." He felt the girl's back go rigid with attention.

"Really?" Her voice sounded cautious.

"Well, yeah…" America smiled, it seemed like he was finally getting through to his double. "What reason would you have to lie about that kinda stuff?"

He felt weight on his back and knew that she was leaning against him. "I don't blame them for being suspicious," she took a deep breath. "I can't say that I'd want to believe me either...given the circumstances…"

"Yeah…" America looked up to the sky. "But if the world is under attack, it's better that we get our shit together and figure out how to defend it."

There was a whistle from below and the America's looked down to see Britain tapping his foot, looking impatient. Alfred chortled, "I guess that means that we are needed."

Making his way down, America was surprised to find that Arthur was alone. "Where'd Canada go?" He asked, jumping the last few feet to the bottom.

England raised a brow. "I was under the impression that he was with you two."

"He was…" America shrugged grandly. "Probably had to use the bathroom." He turned to the green-eyed nation. "So, Britain-dude, what's the deal?"

"We are nearing port," he looked to the girl who was still atop the mast. "Also," he lowered his voice, "it has been decided that there will be a world meeting held within the next week to address our-er-guest and the foes she claims have entered our world. I want you to talk to her and prepare to head to the World Meeting embassy, New York"

"Of course…." Alfred nodded. Looking up, it seemed that the girl couldn't care less about what they were discussing.

England looked to America who could only shrug. Just because she was some type of clone of his didn't mean that he knew what she was doing, jeez…

"Right…" Arthur sighed. Clearing his throat, England directed his attention once more to the female American and raised his voice. "Let's get going, shall we?"

The girl jumped from her place on the mast, landing hard on the deck. "Sure…" she muttered, walking to the rail.

America turned to Britain who looked unimpressed. "I had always thought that if you'd been a girl, you would've turned out a bit more… refined…" he pressed his fingertips to his eyes. "I suppose no matter the sex, America is America."

Rolling his eyes and sighing, Alfred slapped Arthur's back, pushing him to the door. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Huffing, the Brit only managed to flash America a glare before entering the ship.

Joining the girl by the rail, Alfred saw that Matthew was just a short distance away, gazing blankly into the water.

Crossing the distance, Alfred took aim and punched his brother's arm. "Thanks for waiting, Bro," he crossed his arms. Matthew flinched at the contract.

"Oh…yeah…sorry…" He blinked a few times.

Frowning, Alfred hopped up into the rail and examined his brother's face. "Earth to Canada!"

Matthew slapped away the hand that Alfred had been waving in front of his face, with almost enough force to topple the American into the sea. "Hey!" Alfred hissed, grabbing into the handrail beneath him for support. "What's your deal?"

Matthew's face was tight and focused on the black water. "Did you see it?"

"What?" Alfred muttered, "Your hand combing to smack me?"

"In the water…" the way that Matthew's voice was thin and trembled made Alfred's stomach drop.

"The water..?" America turned to peer over the deck. The water was still as he remembered it: still black, still swirling; but now…

Faces? Alfred leaned closer. It couldn't be… no, not faces… eyes. Eyes, looking straight back up at him, eyes brimming with malice…

Bang! A shot rang out and cut through the waves.

Just like that, the eyes were gone.

"What the hell?" America whipped around to see his doppelganger with a gun in each hand, one aimed at the sea.

The girl's eyes were locked on the water. "You both saw it," her eyes flicked to them, "that's how it begins… they watch, they learn," she hesitated, "and once they know how to destroy you, that's exactly what they do…"

She put her hands down and released her weapons. Alfred watched the guns fall, but before they clattered to the deck, they disappeared into thin air.

Alfred looked at Matthew who met his gaze. Neither said anything as the girl walked away. Who was she? America from another universe? What had she seen? Was she truly from another world, and if so, would their world meet the same fate?

I don't bite (much). Please remember to comment and follow this story, it is always encouraging to know people actualy read / like what you wrote.


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